


Little Girl In The Window (part 1)

by Crunchy_Frog



Series: Trip A Little Lamplighter [1]
Category: Mary Poppins (Movies), Mary Poppins Returns - Fandom
Genre: F/M, That's it, This is pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crunchy_Frog/pseuds/Crunchy_Frog
Summary: - After watching 'Mary Poppins Returns', I absolutely fell in love with the Jack x Jane ship, and was immediately inspired by it, so, I'm creating this little series of oneshots that correlate with one another, and go throughout their lives as children, into adults. Enjoy! -





	Little Girl In The Window (part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize deeply for how I write a Cockney accent. If anyone reading this is Cockney, I am so very sorry; this should be considered sacrilege.

Dusk was just beginning to creep into the skies of London, darkening the landscape around the pair, who were all but trudging down the pavement. This dimming of the daylight was the prime time for any blue collar worker - at least, that’s what Jack had been told since the young age of five years, when he’d been adopted into the working class of London, excitedly taken under the wing of an exuberant chimney sweep by the name of Bert. He had yet to quite understand what was so great about the evening, considering he didn’t get to spend like all the other, normal children. 

“ ‘Re we almost done, Bert?” Jack asked, slumping his shoulders and dropping his little chin atop the older man’s capped head. He’d been perched upon Bert’s shoulder for some time, his left arm aching from holding onto his lamplighting stick for several hours. He just wanted to head back to the cramped flat shared by all the other working children and sleep. 

“ ‘Ang on, lad.” Bert chuckled, tugging playfully on the boy’s ankle. He stepped up onto the sidewalk, checking quickly the street sign before nodded resolutely to himself. “This is o’r las’ stop.”

Jack craned his neck to look at the sign as well, reading aloud, “Cherry Tree Lane.” He’d been encouraged to read out all the street names, memorize landmarks - he was going to have to take up a real, independent job on these streets soon, afterall. _Might as well get a head start._

“Yep,” Bert stopped in front of the first lamp-post on the street. “ ‘Ere is our secon’ ‘o las’ s’op for the evenin’. Now, go a’ead an’ ligh’ this one, ‘ere.” 

Jack heaved a heavy, displeased sigh, but endured anyway, raising his small, gangly arm up, and reaching his other hand into his pocket, where a pack of matches were kept. With a quick swipe against the stick, the match was lit, passing its flame onto the head of the lamplighter’s stick. He stretched out his arm as high as he could, barely grasping the pull to open up the lamp. As quickly as he could, without losing the flame, he tipped the stick inside the lantern, barely touching it to the oiled wick, before closing the glass door. He gave two tugs on Bert’s cap to let him know that the lamp had been lit. They went on like this, zigging and zagging from one end of the street to other. 

After about the fifth lamp, Jack’s fatigue was clear to the older gentleman. The weight of the young boy was almost doubling on his shoulders - Bert was certainly a strong man, but he wasn’t sure if he could cart the dead weight on his shoulders _all the way_ back to the East End. This was an often occurrence, of which Bert understood. He himself had been like this when he was training to become a sweep. But he was torn between whether or not to do the rest of the lighting himself, and let the poor boy have a rest, or to make Jack tough it out. 

“ ‘Ow ‘bout this -” Bert tugged on Jack’s ankle, and the boy hummed, a tone of interest barely recognizable under the apparent drowsiness. “See tha’ lamp there?” He outstretched his arm, and fixed his finger upon a lamp halfway down the street. “You ligh’ aul the lam’s from ‘ere ‘oo there, an’ then I’ll do the ress’, eh? ‘Ow that soun’?”

“Perfec’...” Jack nodded against the top of Bert’s head, but not before quickly relighting his stick. 

As they went along, Jack working his little arm here and there, Bert would occasionally skip around and whistle boisterous tunes, making Jack giggle - though the boy would sometimes panic, as whenever Bert skipped, the lit lamplighting stick would come dangerously close to setting the man’s pant leg on fire. _Best I don’t let that happen._

To Jack, it felt like twenty years before they reached the final lamp-post. When he saw it, a little, tired smile played over his brown, sooty face, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He reached up and opened the door to the lamp, feeding the charred wick the little flickering orange light before delicately closing the door, latching it shut. 

“Rememb’r ‘o clean ih ‘oo.” Bert passed the grimy cloth up to Jack, who took it in his small hand, and turned to polish the blackened glass. When he turned to set the cloth upon the lamp, his eyes caught a flicker of something above. A light had been shed in the room above his head, and the curtains had been drawn back. He squinted his eyes to catch a peek at whoever it was that had made their way into the room. 

“Wot ‘re ya doin’ up there?” Bert asked, but Jack didn’t quite perceive it, as his attention had been snatched away by the girl who now sat in the window. She was charming beyond his dreams - her long hair shone gold in the lamplight, tied up by a satin bow, and her round cheeks glowed while a small smile dimpled her chin. As Jack watched, she procured a comb, and began to rake through the thick locks of hair. 

“ ‘Ay, wot ‘re ya up ‘oo?” Bert chided. 

“Lookin’.” Was all Jack said in turn. Bert frowned, and lifted his gaze to where he suspected the boy was _‘looking’_. When his eyes met with the form of the little girl in the window, Bert let a grin break out over his face, and he chuckled at the young boy’s antics. 

Jack meanwhile, was practically melting as the little girl turned her head in his direction. There was a little sparkle in her eye, and Jack was captured even more. He raised his hand, and waved sheepishly to her. It looked to him like the girl smiled to him, and she lifted her hand as well, giving him a curious but friendly wave. 

“Alrigh’ lov’r boy,” Bert let out another laugh, reaching up and lifting Jack off of his shoulders, planting him firmly on the ground before him. The man knelt in front of Jack, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe some of the grime off of his cheek. “Ya ready keep on goin’?”

Instead of his normal exuberance, Jack shuffled his feet, his eyes flicking up from the ground and to the window, where the girl was now accompanied by an older woman with hair just as lovely in color. “But…”  
Bert let out a breathy laugh through his nose and playfully bumped Jack’s arm with his fist. “ ‘Ow bout this - we need ‘o go, wheth’r ya like ih or not. Buh, if you’d like, we can make this s’ree’ o’r las’ stop f’om ‘ere on out, so ya can spen’ sum more’ ‘ime wit ya’re new… friend.”

Jack nodded furiously, causing Bert to belt out another laugh. He knew that feeling exactly - he still had that euphoric feeling inside him whenever he thought about his lady friend, though she never did like to confirm or deny their relationship. Hell, he was lucky enough to breathe the same air as her, for all he cared. Bert took Jack by the hand, pulling him along with him, but not before Jack could sneak in one more, _very_ excited wave goodbye to the little girl in the window.


End file.
